


St. Dymphna, won't you please pray for me?

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Muteness, PTSD, Post-War, Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:52:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years ago Maria Ramos, the Head Healer at St. Dymphna, saw an opportunity and took a chance by offering to allow Severus to do his community service at her hospital. </p><p>He hasn't regretted it until now.</p><p>OR</p><p>Living with Voldemort in your head for more than 16 years would be more than enough to mess with anyone and Harry would really appreciate it if people stopped whispering about how crazy he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"How are you coming on the anti-psychotic?"

There's a pause and she almost goes to repeat herself when the words appear on the chalkboard at the back of the room. ' _Two patients in ward five are testing the second version and I'm currently experimenting with adding fairy tears to quiet the tremors. Should have a new version within the week.'_

He doesn't bother looking up to address the Healer in the doorway, instead continues moving around the small work room intent on decanting the latest concoction. Some of the other women on the ward think he's rude but Maria has always been more than willing to accept that it's his own version of professionalism, and to be honest, she finds it refreshing. Severus Snape wasn't a kind man by any means, and his bedside manners meant he only made contact with patients in the most dire of circumstances, but he got things done and he did them well. Everyone had thought her crazy when she'd offered to let him do his court mandated community service at the hospital of all places, but his skills as a potions master were legendary and she'd argued for years that advancements could be made if anyone just cared enough to spend time working with patients like hers. Severus had been the perfect chance to see if her assumptions were correct and the man had done marvels already.

It's only when a cloud of dust billows from the white board and his report has been replaced with  ' _Is there anything I can help you with?'_ that it occurs to her that she's been staring. While the scarring around his neck from the final battle might have stolen his voice, it most definitely hadn't stolen his fight.

Most days, she appreciates this.

"There's a new patient. He'll be staying in the sixth ward in a single."  

It was rare that patients had single rooms, socialization was encouraged and plus it meant it took less effort to monitor each room; something that became increasingly important the higher the floor. The lower levels of the hospital were dedicated to outpatient services, wizards and witches were free to come and go as they pleased but did spend most of their waking hours in sessions. The third floor was the first inpatient ward, a short term facility that housed those needing to take a few days in a safe place in order to recuperate. The higher the floor, the longer most of the patients stayed and the more supervision they tended to need. It wasn't unusual for a patient to travel up or down a floor or so during their time, but it was strange for someone to start so high. If Severus remembered correctly, there were only three wizards on ward six at the moment- all of which that had been there upwards of two years.

_This is relevant to me why?_

"He's... delusional, at least we hope. He's also very powerful and while we've stripped him of his wand, the accidental magic is already off the charts. I was hoping you could brew a suppressant and deliver it to him tonight."

_Can't a mediwitch deliver it?_

"We're short staffed tonight and he requires a lot of privacy. I'd rather keep as few people in contact with him as possible. If you can be torn away from your research long enough I would appreciate it."

The potions master is already busy rustling through the supply closet for ingredients and Maria has no problem recognizing when she's been dismissed.  It doesn't take long for Severus to brew the suppressant, just under an hour and he's able to stop long enough to wipe swept from brow before pouring the blue green liquid into a small vial.  A glance to the clock at the left side of his work room reveals that it's almost dinner time and Severus makes a note to stop by the cafeteria before heading up to ward six.

There's no apparation within the wards and Severus has never been a fan of sharing tight spaces with other people, so that leaves the stairs, even if it does mean going down three flights and back up five. Healer Maria always jokes that it's why he's so skinny, that and the amount of meals he skips because he's busy. It'd been an endless argument when he'd first started working there, and at one point she'd actually attempted to ward him out of his own work station every day to make him take the time to eat.  After all, the staff at St. Dymphna was basically family and no son of hers was going to be seen looking like he hadn't seen a good meal in years. She'd given up when he'd taken to terrorizing the mediwixen in the lounge during his breaks, particularly after two of them had quit at once. The worst part of it had been that she couldn't even chastise him considering their only complaint had been his 'lurking like a giant bat'. She very well couldn't punish the man for existing, could she? Not after she'd worked so hard to keep him there in the first place.

Severus hums quietly as he collects the tea service, nodding his thanks to the house elves before spelling it to follow him up the stairs. The occasional long walk was good time to think anyway, a moments break from trying to find just the right combination of ingredients and techniques. Not that Severus was complaining, it was interesting work, challenging and for 'the greater good', which kept the general public off his back, and while it wasn't as profitable as opening up a shop of his own, working with Maria had it's own benefits even now that his penance is done.

Once on the sixth ward, he passes by both the occasional empty room and the ones he knows have been occupied, trying to recall if Maria had mentioned a room number or even a patient name. It seems strange that she wouldn't have, but perhaps he'd been too busy with trying to dice the mandrake root to notice or it had simply slipped her mind. Finally, at the end of the hall, a room catches his attention due to the sheer rush of magic that greets him before he's even close enough to read the sign by the door. Severus tries to shake the vague feeling of familiarity while reading the chart, but finds he knows little more than he did a moment before.

_'Patient: J.E._

_Age: 21_

_Code: Red._

_Please speak with Healer Ramos before entering. Patient currently under body bind._

_600 ml of calming potions administered at 15:00.'_

It's enough to make Severus double back to the island where the mediwitch was currently flipping through charts. He snatches a self inking quill and a piece of parchment off the counter before jotting down his concerns and shoving them brusquely in her direction.

"I know that isn't standard procedure, Sir. However, this patient was a special case."

Special case his arse. Another second to scratch out a scathing comment and he was only slightly amused to see her counting to three before responding. Only slightly, because mostly he is angry. He'd have to wait another half hour for the calming potions to get out of the patients system before he could give the suppressant. Not to mention that was three times the standard rate. Ramos better have approved that herself, that high of a dose could have complications.

"I'm sorry, Sir. However I can't tell you. I haven't been authorized to enter his room. Currently only you and the Head Healer are allowed in there.  I did hear it took four Aurors to get him in the body bind to begin with. Anything more than that you'll have to ask Healer Ramos about yourself but I think she's left for dinner."

It's only the yellow of her robes that keeps him from calling her incompetent. For a second he runs his hand down the deep green of his own robes, a color that ranked him only below the most senior of staff. Healer Ramos had tried to get him in those robes in fact, but finally accepted that there was absolutely nothing she could do to convince him to ever be seen in burgundy robes, much less wear them to work every day. The other potions masters that worked at St. Dymphna wore a much lighter green, but it was still accepted that the people creating the medications were to be deferred to in most instances.  Yellow robes were mostly used for the lowest staff members, those who generally dealt with the more amenable patients or occupied the higher wards when everyone else was on break. There'd be no pleasure in yelling at her because of this.

When there's less than ten minutes until he can administer the suppressant, Severus makes his way back towards the room. If nothing else he may end up needing a few minutes in order to get the patient ready to take the potion. He can only hope that the man inside has calmed down, it's much easier to have someone drink the potion on their own, though he isn't above pouring it down their throats if that's what it calls for. Double checking that the tea service is still floating behind him, he carefully opens the door and steps inside.

The need for four aurors becomes immediately apparent when one of the cups shatters against the wall. Even under a body bind, Severus swears he can see the muscles trembling from the force of trying to free themselves and he only spares a moment to be regretful that he can't call out for help. This isn't going to be easy by any meaning of the word. Slipping his wand from it's holster he takes a deep breath and tries to clear his head of the buzzing long enough to cast a wordless 'Immobulus' at the trapped man in the middle of the room. It takes a second casting, and far more of Severus's energy that he'd expected, for the tension in the man's body to finally quieten and the buzzing to fade to a soft hum. Even then, he doubts the spells will hold long and so he pulls the vial from the folds of his robe, momentarily thankful he hadn't poured it in the tea to begin with as he'd first considered, and approaches the now slack man.

Kneeling next to the bed he props the man's upper body up with a few pillows, even transfiguring a third one when he isn't sure that the two in the room will be enough. Once he has the body in a more comfortable position he grasps the chin just the way maria had taught him, forcing the jaw to open so that he can pour the pungent liquid into the patient's mouth before massaging the throat gently to force the body to swallow.  The effect is almost instantaneous, what is left of his tea service stops shaking and for the first time since Severus stepped foot on the sixth floor, his head is completely clear. He hadn't even realized how foggy things had become until now.

There's a bead of sweat on the man's forehead and Severus reaches into his robes for a handkerchief to wipe it from his face, only to drop the body that he's been partially cradling completely when the final piece of the puzzle means everything makes sense.

He's ready to storm out and locate Ramos at whatever restaurant she's currently a patron at, but it proves a moot point when he realizes the witch in the yellow robes has been replaced by the elderly woman.

"I take it the suppressant worked?

Good, good. How long will it last?"

Severus doesn't respond at first, but finally snatches the parchment out of her hand to scrawl out that it should last a week, followed by a demand to know why she didn't tell him just who the patient was.

"I didn't know if you would go if you knew, Severus. Don't give me that look, I'm aware you had a history of sorts... But he's going to need you. Kingsley contacted me frantic because there was serious conversation about sending  him to azkaban or removing his magic by force. I understand that he's dangerous like this, but no one deserves that treatment for something they can't control. There has to be something that you can do for him. After all he's done for all of us."

When he doesn't go to write anything, Maria comes out from behind the counter and grasps his hands. Severus stares a moment at the contrast, his fingers long and white wrapped between small tanned hands, both sets calloused and stained from years of working with potions, though perhaps on different ends. When he finally looks up to meet her eyes, he nods.

After all, he isn't doing it for the boy, no matter how much he might have done for the world. But for Maria who believed in second chances and the idea that everyone was capable of doing good if they were given the right help. 

For Maria he'd do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If PTSD is ruining your life- clap your hands *claps endlessly*  
> Writing post war fics makes it more liveable though.
> 
> I swear I haven't abandoned 'My Soul for a Skirt'. I just need to deal with feelings right now. Also it'll be multi chaptered but no where near as long as my soul for a skirt.  
> also I have it marked as Snarry because it will most likely become Snarry but I'm not set that it won't just be a 'Snape +Harry' fic versus like a ship fic.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus can't help but be grateful that Potter appears more subdued without his magic. If one wasn't looking they might miss the bindings that kept his upper arms and thighs strapped to the bed, but at least he'd calmed down to be granted some movement.

"Good Morning, Mr. Evans, it's so nice to see you're feeling better. Did you enjoy your breakfast this morning?"

It takes a fair amount of effort to suppress an amused smirk from taking over his features at the glare Potter sends Healer Ramos in response, but Severus manages to school his features. Maria for her part seems unaffected as she bustles around the room, stopping for a moment to check his vitals before sending his dishes to the kitchen with a wave of her wand. Severus watches the way Potter's fingers clench into fists as his eyes follow the cherry wood and he makes a mental note to mention it to Maria later. There were a few patients that beyond medicinal potions there was no magic allowed in the rooms, and he was beginning to suspect that would be for the best in this case as well. Having magic flaunted in front of him while his own was suppressed would most likely only agitate the already excitable man.

"Well now, nice and clean. Doesn't a clean space just make the day so much brighter? Mr. Evans I'm going to need you to respond to me now, okay? Over here is one of our resident potions masters, Severus Snape. Now I understand the two of you know each other, and that a lot of that history may not be pleasant. Severus has promised to bite his tongue so to speak, but I need you to understand a few things. Will you nod if you're following me now James?"

'James' nods and she gifts him with a bright smile, " You're in here for a few reasons today. Do you remember the incident that brought you in here? Avert your eyes all you like, while your behavior wasn't.... it might not have been appropriate by any means, I don't think you have any reason to be ashamed. You're going through a really hard time right now, and we're going to help you create some solutions so that you can go back to your home. You do want that, right?"Another nod.

" Good good. Now, usually I would stay for the rest of the initial consultation, but there are some other patients who are in need of my attention and I trust that you boys can get along. Before I go though, I need you to understand one last thing, James. "

What it is that he needs to understand, Severus is unsure because Healer Ramos leans down to whisper in Potter's ear. He'd feel suspicious if it weren't for the fact that he'd seen Maria do it many times, she claimed it helped in building rapport with the patients and making them feel like she trusted them. It was a ridiculous notion in his opinion, but the woman had been running the only successful magical psychward in Europe for longer than Severus had been out of school, so he couldn't quite complain about her methods.

Taking advantage of the moment that Potter is distracted by the conversation, he quietly points his wand at the dresser to the side of the bed, concentrating on the motions for a moment before holstering his wand again. When Maria finally takes a step backwards, Severus is able to smoothly replace her, pulling the stool from the corner of the room so that he can sit by the bedside and opening the top drawer of the dresser to remove a white board and marker. Not as efficient as his usual means, but it's better than seeing just how agitated the man will get if he keeps spelling the words into the air. Besides, there's no fun in baiting a defenseless Potter.

_Please explain the incident that brought you in today._

"Why? You already know why I'm in here." It's defensive, not that Severus can blame the boy. The truth is he doesn't know, but the fact that four aurors had to bring him in was telling enough.

_Standard procedure, no matter what I might or might not know, I need to have a record of your account of the events that occurred._

"My account? As if that will help my case. It'd be easier to just let you all assume. Even Kingsley is starting to give me concerned looks."

This time Severus doesn't write anything down, merely inclines his head. Years of teaching means that he has absolutely no problem  waiting the other man out. Potter had never been capable of keeping his mouth shut for long and if it turns into a match, he can simply go over potion ingredients in his head. After all, Maria had reported that Andrews, the patient on ward five that was using his most recent antipsychotic, had complained this morning that everything tasted like sawdust. It was possible that it wasn't a side effect of the medical potions he was on, but Severus wasn't the kind to leave anything up to chance. 

It was a chance it was a reaction between the addition of the diced snakeroot in the antipsychotic potion and the sliced ginger in the potion the Andrews was consuming for melancholy, or perhaps an allergic reaction to the snakeroot by itself. Snape would have to have one of the mediwixen do a patch test to check for allergies against any of the new ingredients. There was also the unlikely case that it was a reaction between the potions and something that the man was eating, though that would be answered easily enough later today depending on whether or not there continued to be an issue after he'd eaten lunch and dinner. Severus made a mental note to make sure that he was served a broth dinner just in case.

On the bright side the other patient, whose name was escaping Severus at the moment, had been on the potion for over a week now without any negative side effects and hadn't reported a single hallucination since day two. The potions master hoped that this meant they were growing ever closer to something that would ease the patient's pain.  While he wasn't as fond of them as Maria was, he did owe his life to Maria and anything he could do to help her in her quest he would do with without complaint. Or at least, much of it.

"You're a right bastard, you know that? and you always have been."

Still Severus says nothing, though Potter swears he can see a quirk in the man's eyebrow. It's infuriating and he just wants the man to leave already, to let him go to sleep or allow him to keep to staring at the wall in peace. Not that he's really had a moments peace since soon after the war ended. The first month or so had been fine, or at least it'd seemed fine. They'd all been so relieved that the war was over, and he'd done his best to ignore the gnawing pain at each funeral, the gnawing pain every time Ginny had kissed him, but it'd only truly gone away when he drank. And they drank a lot, celebrations every night and mass funerals in the day, but they were all the same.  

It was only once he'd been expected to return to 'normal', when he was told to man up, that the time for mourning was over, that it was time to get back to work, that it became increasingly more obvious that he wasn't healing the same way the rest of them were. That they weren't willing to wait for him anymore if he wasn't willing to 'help himself'. So he'd tried. He'd gotten a job as a clerk, despite increasing pressure to become an auror, argued that he already felt on edge enough without a job convincing him that the paranoia was normal. Ginny had left him, convinced he was cheating because he wasn't interested in sleeping with her, and he had pretended to be sad. Truthfully, the moment she'd left the house he'd felt so free, but the feeling hadn't lasted long enough. But he'd been getting better, or at least he felt he was. The occasional bout of magic he couldn't control, the occasional bout of paranoia, but so long as he kept to his work and little else he'd been fine.

But they'd had the third annual anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts at the Ministry, thrown a ball with witches in beautiful gowns and wizards in smart robes and too many people in too little of a space and....

It all comes bubbling out. He isn't quite sure about everything that happened, knows all the windows and mirrors had shattered, but he'd been so sure. So sure. He'd felt him there again and suddenly he couldn't breathe and everything was shaking. He couldn't survive another war, couldn't survive Voldemort being back, couldn't stand anyone else dying because he wasn't strong enough or quick enough.  And he was screaming and the next thing he knew there were multiple aurors attacking him and dragging him to this place.

Suddenly Maria's comment that night strikes Severus. 'He's delusional, or so we hope.' It wouldn't be the first time the wizarding world had branded Potter a lunatic for saying the Dark Lord was back. Doing his best to remain impartial Severus grabs his marker again.

_Is this the first time you've suspected he might not be dead?_

"No. I mean, I know he is. I know he's dead. But I still feel him. Like he's there in the back of my mind waiting for me to slip up. Waiting for me to make a wrong move. I know I sound crazy, but I'm not. I'm not crazy. I know everyone thinks I am. The Boy Who Lived To Be A Shut In. The Man Who Lived To Disappoint. At first it was just digs about me not wanting to be an auror or continue fighting for the greater good...."

The longer Potter speaks the faster he speaks until Severus is forced to reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, thankfully it's enough to stop him in his tracks and the man sits, chest heaving as he stares at Severus pleadingly. It's not a look Severus is unfamiliar with, most of the patients wear it at some point or another. Begging Severus silently to create the potion that will heal their minds since magic won't, begging Severus to create the cure.

He just never expected to see it in those green eyes.

_Any other symptoms you need help alleviating?_

"Is that what we're calling it here?"

_Mr. Potter..... your cooperation would be appreciated. I do have other things to do today._

"I'm not Mr. Potter anymore, Potter's dead. " It's an almost animalistic snarl and Severus rolls his eyes slightly before resuming the waiting game. He has better things to do than placate the man, he has potions to brew, people to try and help heal. Other than the antipsychotic there's a request for something that will encourage appetite and also relax the mind, and theres always been a need for a better sleeping potion and another form of sedative. Potter's intake proved that all by itself. For a moment he gets lost in his thoughts, mentally going over the list of ingredients that could be used to bring a patient down without knocking them out, while debating trying to create a spell for it as well. The problem with messing with spell creation at this point was that others had difficulty replicating his work now that he no longer needed to speak to grasp control of the magic. Not that he could say the spells if he wanted to. Wordless magic was difficult enough when taking a spell that one knew the incantation to, much less trying to teach someone a spell without words to begin with. Though it might be useful if he was ever put in contact with someone both as out of control and as powerful as Potter is.... not that that was particularly likely.

"Are you even listening to me?" there's a pause and suddenly Potter is laughing, an unhinged cackle of a sound, "Of course not, why should I command your attention now that you're supposed to be paying attention to me. Just go, Snape. I'd roll over to prove this conversation is over, but... " there's a sharp jerk as Potter pulls against the bindings on his biceps. Severus considers paging a nurse to get him another dose of calming potion, but the man finally settles back against the bed without having done much  obvious damage. 

It's only when Potter closes his eyes pointedly that Severus decides its time to return to his workshop. He's already wasted well over an hour babysitting the boy and Maria can take what he's learned with gratitude or not at all for all he cares. Considering who they were, it was amazing Potter had been as forthcoming as he was if Severus was being honest. 

Jotting the last of his notes on the report form he drops the paperwork off with a stern looking mediwitch dressed in royal blue before disappearing down the stairs and back to his labs, stopping for a moment to rub at his left arm.


	3. Chapter 3

Working with Potter was proving even more difficult than expected. Usually patients on the ward attended group therapy, had Healers who went with them over their histories and symptoms and possible coping skills. Potter on the other hand had the misfortune of being stuck with just Severus and not any of the other eclectic individuals who roamed the halls. St. Dymphna had all sorts of interesting professionals, including newly minted Healer Lovegood who lit incense upon entering every room and often was seen placing runes inside the patients rooms. There was no judgement here, any professional that could prove that their methods helped at least a handful of patients was welcome to practice in the building, which left them with a strange mix of muggle, and all sorts of magic fixes. Eastern, Western, Indigenous- sometimes Severus found it amusing to be outnumbered in his own homeland. In the beginning it had been a chance to learn, to expose himself to new theories and also to new cures in hopes of saving his own voice.

Most of them had tried, Ramos had even tried bringing in other professionals but even when he could manage more than a vibration in his throat it came out skewed. She theorized that it was the dark magic at work, seeped deep within the tissue, that years of exposure to crucio and other dark spells left his cells unable to finish healing. It wasn't like they had anyone to test the theory on though, and Severus wouldn't wish for one in his darkest of days, so he'd learned to adapt. However all the coping skills in the world couldn't prepare him for having to deal with Potter's case almost alone. He'd even pleaded that while accidental magic was by no means Healer Lovegood's specialty,that perhaps a more benign familiar face would have a better effect on their patient. The older woman had simply patted him on the shoulder before saying, "Mi hijo, Mi hijo.... The powers that be led him to us for a reason. I believe you can heal together."

Severus had almost snarled that there was nothing about him that needed healing, but when he'd opened his mouth and no sound had come out, her point had been proven for her. Except, in many ways, Severus had come to accept his silence, hadn't thought of it as a burden or something to change in almost a year. It was coming just as much a part of him as his own deep voice had been and he had no interest in going back. He had considered telling her this, but knew deep down that she'd only pat his cheek and comment that there was more than one way to heal. He just isn't sure what she means this time, and isn't sure he wants to know. 

The potions master sighs, scrubbing at his face before staring into the mirror again. The last few years of the war hadn't been kind to him, and there seemed to be just as much silver as black in the pony tail he wears these days. Occasionally he allows Maria to braid it back, and she's part of the reason he hasn't tried to make it all black yet. Every now and then she enjoys remarking on how dignified it makes him look, how respectable. Severus isn't sure he believes it, but anything that gets him that smile is worth keeping. His own mother had usually been too terrified of the consequences to lavish affection on him, and while he'll never admit that he enjoys having a sort of maternal figure again, he also does his best not to push her away. Much.

When it becomes obvious that his reflection isn't going to change, isn't suddenly going to reflect a younger man, or even what he believes a man of forty-one should look like, Severus rolls his shoulders one last time for good measure before changing into the set of muggle clothes that Maria had brought to his work room earlier. Apparently Potter had requested that he be allowed to change into jeans and a t-shirt and she thought it might help if Severus also abandoned his formal wizarding robes. To put them on equal standings, she insisted. Mentally muttering death threats to his latest patient and meddling overseer, Severus slides the jeans on before staring horrified at the shirt she'd left him with. He'd been hoping against hopes that she'd have at least left him with a long sleeve shirt, perhaps a respectable button down or even a turtleneck, and instead she seemed intent to torture him as much as possible with this latest exercise.

Fifteen minutes later after a few alteration spells, Severus finally enters the room on the sixth floor, glaring as the man on the bed bursts out laughing immediately.

"I didn't know you were such a big fan of the Weird Sisters, Snape. Coming to play exploding snap today? Or maybe you'd like to jam out for a bit." 

It takes a fair amount of his self restraint to not tug self consciously at the sleeves of the black shirt, refusing to give Potter the pleasure of knowing just how uncomfortable he is. Instead he crosses his arms pointedly and looks down his nose at the man, doing his best to look imposing while dressed like a teenager getting ready for their first venture into the muggle world. Eventually the smile slides off the brat's face, and he slumps once more, staring up at the ceiling of his room.

"I know, I know. No exploding snap for the man who can't control his magic. What's the agenda for today? Are you going to read me a story about the little wizard who thought he could? Or am I supposed to go over the significant plot points of my childhood that might have brought me here, as if you haven't strong armed your way into my mind half a hundred times through out the years. As if you don't know the intimate details of my worst memories- while I know absolutely nothing about yours. "

There's a beat and then, " That's not entirely true. I'd say I'm sorry but... I'm crazy. Whats the fun in that if I still have to take responsibility for my actions."

Severus searches for the whiteboard again, back turned while he scrawls his message which he then displays with an amused smirk.

_As if you refusing to take responsibility for your actions is any different than the usual fair._

_Also, you aren't crazy. You're suffering._

"Did Mother Teresa teach you that line? I'm suffering, and I'm absolutely insane. I can still feel him and he isn't there and I don't know how to heal from this. And it isn't like you know how to help me. No one does. No one else has ever had the bloody voldemort living inside their head for almost two decades. You can argue that you worked against him but it isn't the same thing and you know it."

Actually Severus would argue that the Dark Lord had spent the better part of two decades trying to get inside his head, and that he had also been gifted with a mark that linked him with the mad man- which put Severus as the person with the highest chance of knowing exactly what it was that Potter was feeling. But Severus has no intention of sharing that he sometimes wakes up in cold sweats, that the mere sound of snakes can stop his heart in his chest, or that sometimes he swears he can feel the mark come back to life. There'd even been a point in time he'd taken to following the call, trying to chase what was more memory than magic. Thankfully those days seemed almost as far away as the war was now.

Still, it would be a cold day in hell before Severus considered telling Potter any of that. 

_Healer Ramos, and yes. You will remember that my bedside manner.... might be considered lacking in most cases._

_He isn't here. But that's why you're here- to learn how to heal. You don't have to do this alone. But we can't bring in more help until we can be sure that they'll be safe and that it won't worsen your condition. While no two cases may be a like, one thing Healer Ramos firmly believes in is the ability for communal healing and that anyone can heal when given the right tools._

"Why wouldn't they be safe? I'm on enough magical suppressants to kill a ghost."

_You cannot stay on them long term... that was actually one of the things I've been told we need to speak about today._

_I cannot administer a second dose of the full suppressant and the one you're on will be wearing off within the next few days._

"Oh god and I'm not making progress. So what is it? Removal of my magical core or azkaban. I mean, at least they've gotten rid of the dementors... it can't be so bad now right? Maybe I'll make friends with the husk of Lucius Malfoy. I'm sure he's a real pleasure, maybe he'll play exploding snap with me. What do you think? Or is strip poker more his style?" 

Severus realizes that his shock must have flashed across his features because Potter is laughing that broken laugh once more, " I'm not deaf you know. I heard them talking."

_Nothing so drastic, and your humor isn't appreciated at the moment._

_I can offer you a partial suppressant and Healer Ramos has suggested that you be relocated._

"Relocated? As if I'm not already isolated here. Where does she want me to go? Where is she going to send me? Oh merlin, even Mother Teresa is washing her hands of me."

_Breathe._

_There is an area that is more... protected. It's an abandoned wing technically, but when you arrived your powers were causing disruptions even through the door and she doesn't want any of the other patients injured._

"So what.... I take a partial suppressant and go live in an abandoned psych ward. That's great. And what, you and six aurors will come stun me when another full dose can be delivered? We keep that up for how long? a month? two? How long till you get tired of having to stun me and instead just leave me to rot in the name of public safety?"

_That remains contingent on our discussion today. There is another option, but you have to be the one to make that decision._

Potter doesn't say anything and Severus continues, once he is sure that he has the other man's full attention.

_You can remain there alone, and if necessary we bring in Aurors to subdue you in order to give you the next suppressant_

_Or I can stay with you. The whole time. Mother Teresa as you like to call her seems to think that I can handle any stray magic that you could send my way._

"Bloody hell, are you sure you can trust me? I can't trust me. What if I hurt you?"

_I survived the Dark Lord.  Forgive me if I'm not shaking in my skivvies at the thought of living with you._

"Not funny, Snape. I'm not fond of you by any means, and at times I have wanted to kill you. What if my magic doesn't realize I don't feel that way anymore? I didn't have anything against those people at the ministry and I caused quite a fuss there."

_Your concern is touching.  But you have two choices and only two. I can stay with you, or you can be isolated with only the friendly neighborhood ghosts to keep you company._

There's no response and Severus places the whiteboard back where it belongs. He's uncomfortable and desperate to change back into his personal armor, and he doesn't have time to wait for the boy wonder to make a decision. He'll come by later, perhaps before dinner to find out what the man has decided. For now he needs to make sure that the rest of the patients have all the potions that they'll need, as well as that the stores are as stocked as possible. If he's going to go stay with Potter it'll be impossible to brew with all the spare magic in the air and while Maria insists he can trust the other brewers, he isn't as confident in their abilities. 

Right now though? Right now he's got to see a Witch about some protective measures. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going to be completely honest with you and tell you that I've had PTSD for uh... way too fucking long. and because of the age/time in my life that I was diagnosed- PTSD is very much associated with pop punk to me most of the time. At least it was?
> 
> For some reason this spell I haven't stopped listening to Southern Gothic playlists.  
> http://8tracks.com/neomeris/jump-the-grave
> 
> and I'mma share that with you because it's fucking phenomenal to me right now. and it very well could be my mental state? or maybe I have just decided I am really into Southern Gothic music.  
> \-----  
> this chapter was edited on 4/13 at 10 am EST because not-sleeping me decided to skip around plot points. whoops. you saw nothing you. absolutely nothing. nope there was nothing here that wasn't supposed to be... nope.>>


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm positive that the ward is entirely safe, Severus. I wouldn't be sending him, much less you, there if I didn't think so. You know how much I care for you."

_I'm sorry if 'Abandoned Wing' isn't a phrase that instills me with complete confidence, Maria._

"Admittedly the place is haunted, but it's a benign ghost. No more harmful than your Headless Nick was. We just found that ghosts don't always help a patient's mental state. Especially if said patient is already paranoid or thinks they might be seeing things. Besides, he's mostly not around"

_And Potter strikes you as someone stable at the moment? The man ricochets between refusing to speak at all and eerie laughter.  The addition of his magic is sure to be at some risk as is. I can't see how locking him away for a week with a man he hates is the answer._

"Severus. I'm trying to make the best decision I can with the information that I have. I know you may not understand, but trust me on this, please."

They'd gone back and forth for little over an hour, Severus's little workroom filling with chalk dust and when he'd finally stormed out, Severus felt bizarrely slighted that he hadn't been offered a lemon drop. If Maria was determined to pull a Dumbledore, the least she could do was give him the pleasure of denying a cup of tea laced with calming potions and that ridiculous candy that Severus had never been able to prove had a truth telling agent in it, but still suspected.

In her defense, the ward did look mostly livable. According to Maria it'd  become abandoned not long before she taken him on as an employee. Five or so years of deterioration is obvious, but cleaned up easily enough between him and another Healer. Ramos had pinned the responsibility on the nearest colleague in hopes of avoiding another round of arguing, which Severus thought quite remarkable considering he couldn't even rant while he worked. The communication barrier wasn't even that high on their list, somewhere after making sure that the furniture was stable, the cold cupboard was functional and filled, and setting up the floo. Once that's settled there's only one last thing to do, and so the pair go about setting up the ritual circle.

With a brusque nod to his companion he raises his wand, watch as she does the same and the sound of chanting fills his senses. It's the first time since he's accepted his condition as permanent that he's been involved in any sort of group incantation, and he isn't sure he has an adequate vocabulary to describe the experience. They said that when one sense was gone that another replaced it, and he can't help but wonder if the ability to feel magic is a sense. Group spells had always been a way to create a more powerful effect, but he'd never actually been able to feel the magics combining. As the woman across from him repeats Latin in a steady voice he can swears he can feel the tendrils of magic wrapping themselves not only around the building but himself as well, the room cast in a warm glow that if he closed his eyes he could have called a hug.

Until suddenly the magic doesn't feel so friendly anymore, and the blond is racing over to where he's stumbled against the wall gasping for breath. It isn't that he hadn't expected it, he'd been warned of course that putting a dampening spell on the entire building instead trying to isolate it on Potter would not only leave him at risk should something happen, but would most likely have uncomfortable side effects no matter what. Uncomfortable side effects didn't begin to cover this, this feeling that someone was sitting on his chest, knowing that his magic was there, just there, but being unable to reach most of it.

"Here, sit down. I told you this was a bad idea. Most of us experience our first dampers as children so the feeling isn't quite so shocking in adulthood, but you didn't grow up in a magical household did you? Let me go get some tea and we'll talk about whether or not I should bring someone else out to remove the damper. I know you keep saying that doing a localized one would upset the patient more, but I don't see how putting yourself in harms way helps any of us."

Severus would argue that putting himself in harms way is exactly how he's helped people for the last two decades, but there's no reason to bring the war up to Healer Emilia. While not completely ignorant of the events that transpired just a handful of years ago, she had been at least a thousand miles away for the duration of the war. Within a few minutes, too fast for traditional means, she's back carrying a cup tray with two mugs on it. He takes the green one with a small nod of thanks, hopeful that her ability to continue to use magic means that his own will return once he gets used to this feeling.

"We all experience it a little differently. My mother described it like trying to run in wet clothing but I prefer to imagine that my magic is beneath the sea. It takes me longer to draw it up, but it's still there, waiting beneath the water. You'll have to find your own way to tap into your power source with the damper in place. That is if you're sure that I can't talk you into removing it? I know Healer Ramos said that large displays of magic unsettles your patient, but perhaps we can go in while he's still asleep."

The potions master pulls a small notepad from the folds of his robe and jots down his response. Emilia's only response is an overdone sigh while she shakes her head at him.

"It's your funeral. I don't know who your patient is, but rumor mill has it that it took at least ten aurors to bring him in and that he's been in anti-magic bindings all week. I doubt he'll be too happy when those come off and his magic starts to return. If his magic is out of control as all that, you might both be under the damper but he's likely to overpower you."

He starts to correct her, but there's little point in doing so. By the time this fiasco is over the word on the street will most likely say that it took the entire auror division to bring Potter in. In fact, Severus is pretty sure the only reason the entire staff doesn't know who 'J.E.' really is is due to Kingsley putting a gag order on the media and the fact that there wasn't a worker at St. Dymphna's who would be caught dead at a ministry ball. Most of the staff practically lived  in the building anyway, and more than that, there was a large anti-authority sentiment that proliferated the halls. It suited Severus just fine, though their distrust was for completely different reasons. Maria Ramos's personal disdain for the aurors had a lot to do with the amount of patients who came in with criminal records that weren't their faults, or being manhandled by the aurors. She'd already caught him twice this week to rant about the way Potter had been brought in, something about how it was amazing he didn't have a concussion from the rough treatment and hadn't the boy already been through enough?

He'd been through more than even Maria knows, Potter's jokes about childhood reminiscing aside, Severus hasn't shared with his superior the things that he knew from the occulmency lessons. It seemed unfair considering that Potter had never revealed what he'd seen in the pensive that day. If Potter chose not to talk about it during sessions, then he was going to allow the man as much of his privacy as possible. He hadn't thought twice about not sharing the information, not until Emilia's comment about most magical children having already experienced the damper. Would Potter's childhood change the way he reacted to it? Would it be worse to have his magic just out of reach than to have it completely suppressed?

"Earth to Severus Snape, I know you're mute but last I checked you weren't deaf."

Severus glances up from his mug, doing his best to look unamused at both the interruption and the comment. If he was a lesser man he'd be ashamed of getting so side tracked in his own thoughts, but Emilia just gives a huffy sigh before repeating herself.

"I'm going to go. Even for me it feels creepy here. I'll be back at dinner to make sure you don't want the damper taken off. Your patient is scheduled to be escorted here at noon tomorrow so if there's anything else you want done to the place, nows your chance."

With that Emilia reholsters her wand before disappearing in a flutter of blue robes as Severus finally regains himself enough to stand up again. Creepy was a good explanation for the way the building feels now, it's almost similar to the way a heavy robe might weigh down a child, but he's glad that it's no longer quite as difficult to breathe. They'd been smart enough to do the major transfigurations before placing the damper, but Severus can't help but walk around the wing to double check that all the chalkboards and whiteboards are in place. The last thing he needed was for his ability to communicate to be stifled due to the magical exhaustion. Other than that he goes through the therapy bag that Maria has left him with, doing his best not to roll his eyes at some of the objects.

Voldemort had a better chance of returning from the dead than Potter did of seeing him use hand puppets to talk about their feelings, and he most definitely wasn't going to be playing dress up with the man.  He's a potions master, admittedly one currently dabbling in cures for mental health mayhem, not a therapist or a baby sitter. Ramos had assured him on more than one occasion that even the silly and sometimes childish seeming methods helped their older clients, and while Severus would never begrudge someone for their own way of coping, he still refused to take part in them. Especially with a former student.

"Mi hijo, how are you doing in there?"

In place of an answer, he pulls the cape out of the bag and gives the flickering face in the fire a deadpan look.

"You never know what will make a patient feel safe or in control. Now, come on through so that we can talk about tomorrow. Unless you've finally mastered morse code through blinking"

It's once he's settled in his customary chair on the other side of her desk, having deflected offers of both tea and biscuits but accepted the proffered parchment and quill that he feels normal again. Less underwater, less heavy, less weighed down to the earth. He can't help but wonder what it will be like to be underwater for an entire week, but not only that, but what Potter's magic will be like. Will he be forced to combat both buzzing and the grounding in order to keep them safe?

 "Is there anything else you think you'll need? You know I'm always just a floo call or spell away but it's better to be safe than sorry in terms of having things down there."

Severus contemplates this for a moment and then sketches out a quick list, shoving it in her direction. It takes Maria a moment to look it over, and finally she nods her consent.

"We'll get everything down there before you arrive.  I'll tell Healer Emilia what all needs to arranged. Now, go get some dinner, no excuses about not being hungry, you are still looking far too thin, and then get some rest. It's going to be a long week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the previous chapter before 4/13 at say... noon.
> 
> Please go and reread it.
> 
> A decently sized event was moved out of that chapter because what is doing things in the order that they're supposed to happen.  
> whatissleeping.reallyneedtostoppostingfanfictionaftermidnight.  
> ....  
> also extremely tempted to go back through and change the language from 'patients' to boarders. not going to do it now but that might happen in the future. I'm kind of growing fond of the matron saint of mental illness too. Apparently her feast? is on may fifteenth. and that's like a month away. I am honestly contemplating throwing a dinner thing.
> 
> also mi hijo is my son. I vaguely feel like the way I'm used to hearing it is actually like mi 'jo but Imma have to check in with my ex before I swear by that and start slaughtering a language I'm not familiar with.


End file.
